


Hairpin Trigger

by justasparkwriting



Series: River [2]
Category: bts, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Anger, Bishop Briggs, Gen, Other, Relief, choreography, dance, galen hooks - Freeform, river - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27601490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justasparkwriting/pseuds/justasparkwriting
Summary: Jimin's heartbreak. A legendary choreographer. An afternoon letting go.
Relationships: Original Character - Relationship, Park Jimin (BTS) & Reader, Park Jimin (BTS) & You, Park Jimin (BTS)/Reader, Park Jimin (BTS)/You
Series: River [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016269
Kudos: 4





	Hairpin Trigger

**Author's Note:**

> Watch Galen Hook's choreography to River by Bishop Briggs.

Jimin walked into the dance studio, dropping his bag to the side and took in everything around him. A wall of mirrors. Black walls absorbing the heat of the LA sun. And a woman seated against the wall. Galen Hooks. Famed choreographer. Esteemed collaborator. Award winning. Globally recognized. Here to teach Jimin.

When Management informed them, they’d be stateside for Jimin’s birthday, he’d asked if he could request something special to ring in a new year of him. They said sure, why not? As long as it wasn’t Elon Musk level insane, they assured him they could make it happen.

This was what he wanted: a lesson, an afternoon, a day, any time he could get, with Galen. He told Big Hit she could teach him whatever she wanted, but he was craving some form of lyrical/contemporary/modern, break your heart in every move, routine. He was tired of hip hop, craving his Serendipity routine and its ability to break and heal his heart every night.

“Good afternoon,” Jimin said, walking over to her. She stood smiling, excited to meet him.

They exchanged pleasantries, her asking about his dance history to get a sense of what he could do, or what she could get out of him. He explained in his best English, conveying the years of formal training he’d had before BTS, and his yearning to return to his roots.

“Let’s warm up!” She said, turning music on and leading Jimin through a simple routine designed to warm up their bodies.

His body craved the movement, the energy of BTS’ trip stateside was driving him crazy, the long flight, the hours of sitting and rehearsing hip hop. All Jimin wanted was to work on his craft and dance until his knees gave out. That’s what he told Galen, all he wanted was to _feel_ the movement.

Galen understood immediately.

“Let’s do some freestyle roulette,” She smiled. “I love doing free style competitions, I’ll pick a theme, play a song you’ve never heard, and your sole job is to dance to it.”

“Okay,” Jimin was hesitant, nervous excitedness causing him to giggle.

“An example would be the snake tricking Eve to eat the apple, or a cartoon bank robber escaping. It can be silly, it can be serious, it’s you and the idea in your head.”

“I’m into it,” Jimin said.

“I’ll go first,” Galen showed him her iPad, the spinner reading to go. “First, the song.” The wheel began to spin before it landed on Musicology by Prince. Galen tapped again.

“A love letter to your favorite childhood memory,” Galen read. She took the iPad from Jimin and began to play the music. Her movements were clipped, musical theatre inspired as she moved about the space. She jumped, she twirled, she used patterns and combos Jimin only dreamed of. When her minute was up, she stopped and stared at Jimin.

“You ready?” She asked.

“Yes,” Jimin was ready to feel, to hurt.

“Okay,” Galen held the iPad to him. He tapped.

“Sick of Losing Soulmates by Dodie,” She read. Jimin tapped again. “Your younger self is meeting you for the first time.”

Jimin took in the phrase, dissecting what it meant to him and his body, his journey that got him here. He moved to the middle of the floor and waited for the music. He’d guessed it was melodic, the title gave it away, but he’d never heard it before. As it swept over him, he turned his mind off and moved for the sake of moving. His arms swept above him, his bangs falling, he leapt and turned, body contorting as it fell into a rhythm.

Galen let the song play on, longer than freestyle roulette rules allowed. As Jimin came down from his escape, he sat in the middle of the floor.

“You’ve got something on your heart,” She said.

“Yeah, something,” Jimin shrugged.

“Someone?” She asked.

Jimin nodded as he caught his breath.

“Let’s do some choreography, something, not too complicated, it’s emotive and precise,” She opened her phone, finding the song she was looking for and moving into the middle of the floor as it began to pulse through the speakers.

_Like a river, like a river, sh-  
Like a river, like a river, sh-  
Like a river, like a river  
Shut your mouth and run me like a river_

Jimin watched carefully as Galen tossed her arm back before lighting an elusive cigarette, exhaling at the perfect moment before dropping into a low squat, rocking back and forth on her toes. He’d seen the dance on Youtube, had studied the precarious movements, the perfect timing, the charisma behind each step, the questioning in each lyric, the devastation behind each word. He’d felt it in his gut, this deep primal understanding of the movements.

He wouldn’t talk about you. had pried. Namjoon had pried. Taehyung had pried. His oldest friend had gotten the most out of Jimin, and all Jimin had said was “I’m processing, just let me dance.”

Dance was his form of expression, his comfort, his harbor in a rocky storm. He wanted to use his birthday surprise to mend his heart the best way he knew how.

“You ready?” Galen asked as she finished the routine.

“Beyond,” Jimin stood and moved to the center of the floor. Learning 8 counts was child’s play. Galen wanted more.

“What’s pushing you? What’s driving your movements? What are you letting go and pulling towards you?”

“I want to stop running,” Jimin said.

“Why?”

“Because I’m sick of chasing whatever I can to avoid feeling hurt and devastated.”

“Let’s move,” Galen turned the music on, the thick beat reverberating in the small space.

Jimin took a deep breath, a quick roll of his head before he settled into the music.

Jimin loved _hard_. His endless heart wound its way around his 6 bandmates, creating an unbreakable bond. They loved one another, they laughed with one another, they got mad at one another. They were stable, continuous, a unit that moved together. You weren’t.

He’d met you by chance, as all the best love stories began. He was intrigued, your eyes, your smile… something about your energy as you tossed back a whiskey on the rocks, careless of his gaze on you. Jimin had approached, curiosity winning. Your words were curt, your gaze impenetrable, he couldn’t read you, but he could tell you said what you meant, and you didn’t fuck around.

The idea of casually dating had intrigued Jimin. He’d never done it, as Ho-Seok informed him, he wasn’t strong of heart, no strings would make him sick. He wanted to try, he wanted to try for you. It was a blissful few months, falling in and out of love, meeting in clandestine places, phone sex when the members weren’t around, sexy pics passed back and forth.

He was falling in love with you, and you, him. You’d agreed to be exclusive, caving to Jimin’s need to have you to himself. Jimin was consumed by you, and your mind was filled with Jimin: his voice, his touch, the jokes he made, his laugh. It was all Jimin.

Until it wasn’t.

“Why can’t you just love me?” Jimin asked, alcohol coursing through him, eyes tired from performing.

“I do love you,” You said.

“No, you don’t,” Jimin spit.

“I do, I fucking love you!” You yelled.

“Yeah right,” Jimin snipped.

“What, do you want me to prove it to you? Are you a little bitch who needs me to affirm my unyielding love for you?” You snapped.

“Yeah, that’s what I need. Prove it,” Jimin insisted.

“Fuck you, Jimin,” You called moving away from him.

“What? You can’t stand and deliver?” He pushed.

“Fuck you!” You called again.

“It’d be nice if you could.” He yelled. He knew a low blow was sure to have consequences, but he didn’t care. Couldn’t you see that he needed you?

Ho-Seok and Taehyung could see it, the beginning of the end. They’d never seen Jimin yell at someone besides them, never seen his alcohol turn into rage, the Jiminie they loved disappearing into a distraught, lovelorn shell of himself. He started messing up routines, which resulted in him spending hours in front of the mirror, analyzing every move he made, ensuring perfection. The Problem with Jungkook, was the Problem with Jimin, and his hyungs wondered if he would recover.

It was three days later that you two picked another fight.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?” Jimin asked.

“No, I’m going to go home,” You said, moving to slip your shoes on.

“Why?” Jimin wondered.

“Because I want to go home,” You said rolling your eyes.

“You haven’t stayed over in-

“Jimin, I know,” You glared at him through the mirror.

“So, stay,” He shrugged, arms crossing over his chest, feet firm.

“No,” You stared down the barrel into Jimin’s eyes. The anger bubbling.

“You say we don’t spend enough time together, then you won’t spend the night, I try to call, I try to schedule dates for us, and you won’t. Do you not want to date me anymore? Do you not love me anymore? Am I not good enough for you? Are you sick of me?” Jimin peppered.

“Shut, your, mouth,” You snapped, eyes wild. The tears had started to form in both of your eyes as you stepped passed him and haughtily left the dorms, door slamming behind you.

Jimin was destroyed. It was equal parts the breakup, and equal parts how quickly you moved on. How quickly your tweets became about someone else, your photos included someone he didn’t recognize. The words you used to talk about Jimin were now being given to someone else. You mailed the belongings of his that were at your place, not bothering to tell him they were coming.

It was over faster than it had begun. Jimin was left, choking on the love you once shared, tears withering as he tried to put himself back together. Dance returning life to his veins.

Jimin walked through the routine with Galen a few times before she turned the music on, bass amped and let him run it.

_How do you fall in love?_

_Harder than a bullet could hit you_

_How do we fall apart?_

_Faster than a hairpin trigger_

Jimin tossed it out. The anger he had toward you. The hurt he’d been hiding. The frustration that had built from not knowing if what you’d done was in spite of him, or because of him. He didn’t know if he was angry because you got the last word, or because he was to chicken shit to end it the minute you’d started hurting him. You broke his heart. Here he was, celebrating his birthday, throwing down every inhibition in search of the feelings he’d been longing for.

He ran the routine, then ran it again and again. Ho-Seok, Jungkook and Taehyung rolled in towards the end of their session, begging for a minute of time with Galen.

“You want to see what we’ve been working on?” She asked them. They nodded eagerly before placing their backs against the mirrors, staring expectantly at Jimin.

The music began, and they couldn’t look away. Jimin was mesmerizing. He was pain. He was hope. He was the sinner and the saint. His steps flowed through him, the rush dampening the fire that’d been burning inside, turning him to ash. As he threw his arms, both in precision and abandon, Ho-Seok, Taehyung and Jungkook saw a flash, a hint, a sparkle. The river had run its course: Jimin was back.

**Author's Note:**

> (It's fine)


End file.
